Delirium
by Mokyn
Summary: Alternate events. After I was created, I saw things, heard things, and thought the others could as well. I have to draw everything I see. It's the only way I can remember... The only way I can continue on.


**((This is an alternate take on the events, and a look at how 6 sees the world. Look to the author's notes at the end for more information.))**

**

* * *

  
**

After I was created I saw things, heard things, and I thought everyone else could as well. But when I talked to them about these things they were clueless, asking me what I meant or simply humoring me and going back to what they were doing.

So I drew what only I could see. At first I thought it would help the others remember they could do this too, but they couldn't, and maybe I realized that earlier and never wanted to admit it. But still I drew, so I could show them and say, "This is real. This is what happened."

My room-- my old room upstairs, not the one I was moved to-- was covered by paper and the bottles of ink I had collected from other spaces in the cathedral. But some of the drawings I didn't remember making. No matter how long I looked at them, I never remembered sitting down and creating them. And it continued like that; I would be doing something and then the next thing I remembered was ink dripping from my fingers and a picture beginning to dry in front of me.

And then the day came when things changed. I was sure I had been walking somewhere, had felt the flat, dusty ground beneath my feet, but I must have spaced out or something. I don't remember getting lost, only realizing that the ground was suddenly rougher, covered with pebbles and other detritus. Seven was next to me, one hand on my arm as if leading me.

I asked her if she knew how I had gotten lost, but she didn't answer. Only said she was taking me back home. After a few moments of silence, she asked me why I had been wandering outside by myself. I explained that my room was close to a big room that led outside, so it was easy to leave if I wanted, though I preferred staying inside.

She looked worried about something and said she was going to talk to One. This confused me. Seven hated One, she said his parodies of royalty were sickening. When she'd left the cathedral I guessed she'd had enough. Five said he saw her occasionally through his telescope patrolling the area, but she only came back for something she considered important.

When we got back home I took her in through the giant, ornate doors that barely any of us used. She paid no attention to the stained glass windows, or to the altar as we passed it. She continued down the hallway to the bell tower after I reached my room.

The last thing Seven said to me was, "I'm just glad I found you before any machines did."

Seven thought too much of herself sometimes. I had been paying attention, I would have known if something was nearby. I didn't need her constant protection.

That night One said I was going to be staying with him and Eight. It would be safer, One said. Machines might be able to find a way in, and it would be better if I was with everyone in the tower.

So I went, taking a few rags with me to sleep on. But that night I couldn't fall asleep, no matter how much I tossed and turned. The light was too different, and the place just didn't feel right to me.

I snuck away by the stairs. It was a roundabout way of getting downstairs, but the bucket would have woken One and Eight, so I knew that wouldn't work. I had to go by the bells to get there. They were hard to see, but slats in the roof let in some moonlight, enough to see the shape of the metal instruments. I wished I could have played them, to hear what they sounded like. I had never heard them and I always wondered. Would they be sad or happy? Would they be as mixed as everyone that lived within the same walls as them? Wondering was all I had to go on.

Eight dragged me back the next morning, ignoring all my protests. One yelled at me that I had been told to stay, that this place was where I was supposed to be from now on. I didn't get it at all, I figured he was just being angry for the heck of it.

I said, "But this place isn't safer. It was attacked before, remember?"

One looked skeptical, while Eight looked like he didn't remember at all and this was the first he had heard of it.

"What was that again?" One asked.

"This place was attacked before. _You know_. A flying machine broke through the window and the place caught on fire. Obviously it wasn't too bad, since we're still here, but I'd rather stay in my own room, if it that's all right with you."

One stared at me for a moment as if considering whether my words were true. Then he straightened himself to the posture he thought a leader should have. "You will stay here," he commanded. "You will be kept under my supervision and are not to leave, no matter what you think has happened or may happen."

"But-"

"That's enough!"

Eight moved towards me, a close threat. I shrank back and kept quiet.

Five was the one who thought of giving me my own space, like how he and Two had their workshop away from where One lived. After he and Two finished with everything, I had my own space, but it wasn't entirely private. It reminded me of a tent, still open so I could see out.

Or so others could see in.

Why were they all so obsessed with keeping an eye on me? I didn't need protection. There wasn't anything wrong with me.

* * *

I looked feverishly through my notes, knocking books to the floor. I didn't care about them, they didn't have what I needed. I knew it was somewhere, I just had to find it. As I searched, I could hear a fly beating against the window, not realizing it was too cold for it to survive outside.

Who was I kidding? Even humans couldn't survive outside anymore, much less an insect.

I found what I was looking for beneath other papers I had set aside years ago, thinking I would never need them again. This was it, the diagram that would help set things right. I could stop what I had started, or at the very least allow life to continue on.

A loud thump at the window made my head snap back up into the dying reality I was living.

* * *

I looked over to see Nine staring at me curiously. We had never been introduced to each other, but I recognized him from the times I had seen him. He looked very much like Five, but with a zipper on his front and a face that still held an innocence the world hadn't beaten down yet.

"What was that you were saying?" he asked gently. I noticed Five standing close to us. I realized I had a piece of paper in my hands, but I couldn't remember why I had it, or why I was standing there in the first place.

Nine took my silence as incomprehension. "You were holding this up and saying something about 'the source'. I was wondering what you meant by that."

His tone was polite, not aggressive or patronizing in any way, and yet I felt my shoulders tense, my hands hold the drawing closer, the paper crackling against me.

"I-I'm sorry," I muttered. "I don't..."

I didn't finish the sentence as I went to the tent. I hid behind the cloth, set the drawing down to see a circle with strange symbols in the middle of it. It was nothing and I couldn't make sense of it.

I heard Nine ask, "What was that about?"

Five replied, "That was Six. Sorry that had to be how you met him."

I heard them leave, staying quiet. I pushed the drawing away, trying to ignore it. That wasn't the first time something like that had happened to me.

* * *

I woke in the fierce grip of Eight, with One, Five and Two standing nearby.

"What happened?" I asked them. Two and Five looked worried, I was afraid of what had caused them to look at that way.

"You woke us all with your screaming, that's what happened!" One said.

Eight put me back on the ground, and everyone took turns explaining. Eight had woken up when he heard a noise, and he'd seen me crouched in the corner. Shaking as if I'd just seen a machine, he said. Quick as a blink I'd bolted in the direction of the elevator and Eight had grabbed me. That was when Five and Two had woken up.

"You were screaming at the top of your lungs about somebody dying if we didn't do something." Five explained. "We tried to snap you out of it, but you didn't notice, and then you just stopped on your own."

Two rubbed my back for a moment, the small area between my shoulders. "What was it that scared you so much?" he asked me, his voice quiet and calming in a way that only Two could manage. But his comfort wasn't enough to stop me shaking. I didn't like the room we were in, not one bit. The light was all wrong, the shadows were so sharp they could be hiding anything, and we were all in plain sight.

"I don't remember," I replied. "I was asleep."

Two smiled and took his hand off me. I didn't want him to stop, but I couldn't think of how to ask. He turned to the others and said, "A nightmare then. A simple enough to answer."

It wasn't simple to me. I could remember nightmares, or any kind of dream easy. They were just images that faded as soon as I woke up. This was a feeling that had gotten into my synthetic bones, made it feel like all the wires in me were coiled tight. And I couldn't remember why.

One had already lost interest, going back to the throne he slept in. As he walked away I heard him grumble something about "His over-active imagination" Eight's quick reply was too low for me to hear as he followed, but I guessed it was along the lines of "Yeah, you're right."

Five followed me as I went back to my bed, though I didn't feel tired. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked as I flopped onto the pile of rags. I just nodded.

It was simply a nightmare. Nothing more.

* * *

There were rare times when I was left by myself and no one was around to watch me or order me to stay quiet. When I woke to an empty room I figured One had gone checking the cathedral with Eight, or was talking to Two downstairs as he sometimes did when the inventor came back from exploring.

I guessed by the light shining through the clock face it was afternoon, maybe later. With nothing much to do and not being allowed to explore, I had gotten into the habit of sleeping when I was bored, and I was often awake at night.

I needed to do something. Maybe I could draw something happy, something that would make One less tense and make Five smile, really smile. I crossed the room to the calendar by One's throne and tore off half a page-- a full page was much too big and I didn't want to waste something as important as paper. It was hard to come by, mostly being covered in words that only Three and Four cared to read.

I didn't notice anyone coming up the elevator until I heard voices. Five and Nine were back. I went back to my space as they reached the top. Nine glanced up at me but returned his attention to Five, who kept his gaze to the floor.

Nine was the first to speak, though it seemed like he was continuing a conversation that had lasted hours. "Five, I'm really sorry. If you hate me, I understa-"

"I don't hate you," Five interrupted, still not looking up as he walked to the workshop. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

Though my kind aren't able to cry, there was something in Five's voice that made that same feeling constrict around me. It was like he had been rubbed raw and didn't know what to do in such a state, and I didn't know how to help him.

As I set the new paper on the pile with the rest of it a phrase came to mind from nowhere. _The soul still lives after it has left the body_. Stuff like that happened sometimes, phrases or thoughts jumped into my head, clear as my own voice. I liked the sound of that sentence. It sounded... not quite complicated, but layered, not as hopeful as it first seemed.

"How did you know that, Six?"

I looked up to see that Nine and Five had stopped, staring at me. Five waited for me to answer, but I hadn't said anything in the first place. His expression scared me so I stayed quiet, hoping he would move on.

But he didn't. He said, "We just came back and haven't told anyone what happened. So how did you know?"

Nine tried to divert his attention, saying they should just go, but whatever had made Five's voice so raw now pushed words out of his mouth.

"Some of those things you spout, they're not just ramblings, are they?"

I knew Five would never hurt me, but this wasn't Five. I didn't know what he was talking about, and I wanted nothing more than for him to not notice me. But I couldn't say any of that. All I could manage was "I don't know."

He moved towards me and I nearly tripped over my feet trying to back away. "You knew! You knew before and you didn't tell us?"

I was crouched so low my knees nearly touched the floor. "N-no, I didn't-" I tried to explain, but my mind was a block and my mouth was stuck repeating the same thing again and again.

Five's voice was choked with emotion, his hand to his chest as if he was holding his heart inside. "Two's dead now and you couldn't give us a warning?"

Nine grabbed his shoulder, stopped him. It couldn't be true. Two couldn't be gone. He was downstairs, talking to One like he always did, I knew he was.

"Let him be," Nine said, his hand still on Five's shoulder. "We didn't know, and neither did he."

"You've only known him for a day, Nine. He's said a lot of weird things over the years, and now they're starting to make sense."

"If you're going to be mad at someone, you should be mad at me."

I looked at the both of them, first Five, then Nine, then back again. Neither of them were making any sense, none of it could be true.

Five shook Nine's hand off him and turned away, back to the Five I knew.

"I'm sorry."

I don't know who he said it to. He went to the workshop without another word. Nine and I looked at each other at the same time.

Nine sighed. "It's been a long day."

He hurried after his friend, and I suddenly remembered the paper I'd ripped off the calendar. The back of it was clean enough to draw on, but I couldn't think of anything.

There were rare times when I was left by myself. I couldn't say I liked them much. There's a big difference between being by myself and being left alone.

* * *

Over the years I had drawn enough pictures to cover an entire wall of One's room, and a bit more. Some I didn't remember making, and some I did. A lot of the pictures were of the same circle with the three symbols inside it, like I had shown Nine before. It hadn't been the first time I'd made it, but I never threw out any repeats I drew. It was important, I had to know what it looked like. Two noticed them and asked if he could have a copy. I gave him one after making him promise not to get rid of it, ever. It was important, I just didn't know how. But if anyone would figure it out, it would be Two, maybe Five as well if he was willing to go outside more. They could find Three and Four and ask them if they knew, or get Seven to help look.

All the drawings burnt up, though. I hated remembering that part, but I didn't remember things in order, then they wouldn't match up.

* * *

All the buildings were covered in white stuff. I looked up at the grey sky and saw specks the same colour floating down. I had never seen anything like it, and tentatively put out a mittened hand to catch the white specks. Nothing bad happened to me, the white just collected in pieces in my hand. I clenched my fingers into a fist and uncurled them quickly, seeing the snowflakes disappear into drops of water.

"You done staring like an idiot now?"

I turned to the young voice beside me to see a human boy, nearly swallowed up by his jacket. His dark brown hair was covered by a hat, and I could see his ears sticking out, unprotected and red.

It was only then I noticed all the people. Humans were all around me, talking with friends, coming out of shops, turning up collars to the cold, driving by in cars. Humans were everywhere, but they didn't seem as tall and dangerous as I remembered. They just seemed normal.

I couldn't answer the boy, only got small, nonsense sounds to come out of my mouth. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand to the street behind us. "C'mon."

I followed him as he ran off, weaved through the crowds of people trying to keep him in my sight.

"Where are we going?" I called to him.

He stopped long enough for me to catch up, then continued at a slower pace. "What is with you today?" he said, mostly to himself. "We're waging war today, remember? The snowball fight we've been planning all week? We're gonna show those older grades they can't mess with us."

I didn't like the sound of waging war, and I didn't understand how he could speak with such calmness, like it was nothing.

Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and with only a quick glance to the thin traffic he pulled me to the other side of the street. We ran by a few houses before he stopped and bent close to the ground, his hands packing the snow.

"Might as well get some practise in," he said, tossing the snowball into the air and catching it again. Playing with a weapon of war.

"Wait!" I cried, but he'd already thrown the snowball at a building across the street from us. As it impacted the brick, I cringed and covered my head with my arms. Nothing happened than a muttered, "Darn, I missed!" from beside me. I opened my eyes to see everything still fine, other than a white splotch that stained the building on its second floor. No explosions, no rubble on the ground. It was all harmless. Fun, possibly.

The boy turned to me, a playful smile on his face. "Your turn now," he said. "Try to aim for a window."

I didn't get why I had to take a turn, but the game wasn't hurting anyone, so I started gathering snow together. I gasped as the stuff seeped through my mittens worse than the flakes had. "It's cold!"

"Of course it's cold. It's snow!" He laughed a bit, probably wondering again what was wrong with me.

I figured he'd thrown his snowball too hard and low, so if I wanted to do whatever it was I had to do, I should aim higher. But when I tried to throw, my grip wasn't as tight as I'd wanted and the snowball went flying off-kilter.

It half hit the wall, half hit a window with a thump I could hear even from a distance. The boy let out a whoop as I saw someone step to the window. They only looked outside for a moment, barely glanced in our direction before retreating from view. I thought I saw a man with dark hair, maybe with glasses too, but that may have been my eyes playing tricks on me.

The boy said we should hurry and started walking. As we kept on our way, he let out a small laugh and asked, "Didya see him?"

"See who?"

"Dr. Frankenstein," he said as if it was such an obvious answer. "He never leaves that house. My dad says he used to work with him, but now the guy is too busy working on something, and he won't tell anybody what it is."

I thought that over for a moment, then said, "I don't see why we have to throw stuff at his house."

The boy only shrugged, then started talking about other things, like how his sister had ripped one of his books when she'd tried to read it, and how we had to figure out what to do that week to pass the time. Normal, human stuff.

The next thing I remembered was standing at a train station, but I knew I was no longer a kid who tossed snowballs to fight. The noises in the background told me that war was no longer a game. A woman stood in front of me, her eyes shifting from my face to the train not far behind her. The crowd milling around us didn't matter to me, it barely registered in my memory. This woman had always made sure I wore a jacket when it was wet or cold, reprimanded me when I did something I thought would be a good idea but was really stupid, told me she loved me even when I thought I was too old to hear things like that. My mother did not want to leave me.

"I could stay here with you," she begged. "I could hide somewhere, and take care not to get hurt." I wanted to believe her, but her own voice betrayed how little she believed herself.

It felt like there was something caught in my throat, but my voice could get past it. "No. It will be safer if you leave the city, trust me." I forced a smile on my face. "Don't worry, we'll get rid of the machines in no time."

She nodded slowly and as if knowing exactly what was on my mind, she embraced me. I wrapped my arms around her just as tightly, hoping I could remember this as something happy, not like it would be the last time we'd see each other.

We finally let go and with a quick "I love you" from the both of us, she boarded the train. Suddenly the people were too close, and I pushed my way outside to get some space. As I walked out into the somewhat fresh air I began to wonder what had happened to the man I once called Dr. Frankenstein. I had never seen him again, and I never bothered to find out his real name; the nickname seemed very fitting to me.

As I stood there, I heard a melody sound far off from the cathedral. The bells. So that's what they sounded like. The chiming went through my ears to my soul, the melancholy settling down as if it meant to stay for a long time.

_Your time is up,_ the bells seemed to say.

* * *

We had no sanctuary anymore. Our group was dwindling down lower and lower, and we were forced to spend each day looking for a shelter. We were out in the wild of the city, and when more machines came, we retreated to the outskirts so we wouldn't be noticed. Anything to try and survive just one more day. Nine kept looking over his shoulder, Seven became even more restless than she'd been before, and Five jumped between being scared at every corner we turned to showing a sign of bravery and helping to guard everyone.

I realized quickly my fear of things inside the cathedral was nothing compared to the world. Everything had been wiped out years ago and my mind rushed to fill in the blanks even when I really didn't want to. The pile of debris close to us didn't have enough room for everyone to hide under but something small could fit in between things and wait to grab just one person. The broken door that creaked in the wind was actually the machine waiting up ahead to steal one of us away. I hated every second of every day. We were in plain sight no matter where we went!

One didn't help things. He always tried to point out what was the best course of action, even though the majority had learned better how to deal with what surrounded us. Eight, when he was still with us, defended all of One's opinions, and Three and Four were so scared of the both of them that they stayed by Seven's side as if they' been stitched to her. During the long hours One would complain about how we walked too much with no sense of direction, yet when I let my mind wander he shook me by the shoulder and told me to pay attention, he told me to be quiet even when I hadn't said anything because it might attract the attention of a machine.

We had moved outside of the city completely, but now Nine directed us with some purpose. He didn't explain himself that clearly, but I had gotten enough to figure out he and the twins had a plan.

It was a long way to the plan. My feet dragged on the flat, dried ground and the wind threw the dust into my eyes, bits of dirt pinging off the glass. I dropped to the ground by One's feet, feeling my legs wouldn't let me go further.

"Can we rest now?" I pleaded, even though I knew we wouldn't.

One pulled me to my feet. "We can't stop here. It isn't safe."

"But I'm_ tired_."

He obviously didn't like my tone, and pulled me forward a bit before scolding, "Everyone is! Now, hurry up, we're already behind."

Nine and Seven, being the closest to us as Five was up ahead with the twins, noticed the scene and came over.

Seven was the first to speak. "He's allowed to go at his own pace. We're in no danger."

One kept his voice calm and commanding, but I saw his eyes glance at the spear in Seven's well-trained hands. "If we continue at the speed we're going, we'll be found by even the slowest beast out there."

"We'll be fine," Nine said. "I can stay with Six and you can go with everyone else."

One hesitated for a moment, deciding whether his self-preservation could beat out his pride. He finally compromised by saying derisively, "Fine. But if even one small thing happens, I'm holding you responsible."

Nine glared at the leader's back as he walked ahead, and Seven ran to the middle of the group, so she could protect both the front and back if the need arose.

The rest of the walk was a bit better, but Nine sometimes tried to start a conversation by saying useless, boring things and I barely noticed it anymore by the time we caught up with everyone at the top of a small hill. In the distance I could see a bridge, and even further on the factory where the machines came from.

Nine pointed in that direction and said, "That's where we're going."

I was too tired to explain to him that no one went there unless they wanted a death wish. I could only see how much farther we still had to go, and I only wanted to stop.

* * *

I needed paper and ink, but it was too dark for me to look for any, if there was any to be found in the abandoned house we'd taken for the night. It only had two walls still standing, but the corner they created was enough. The broken furniture, especially a table half-rotted and tilted to the ground made a good hiding place.

Why were we back in the city when we'd been going outside of it? No one else found this strange, they'd all fallen asleep with barely any worries. My mind wandered even worse at night, and I'd been trying to remember things to relax. It wasn't working, I was remembering things in a weird order. Already I'd recalled a few things twice, and that wasn't the way to do it. I needed to draw, it would be so much easier if I could see it in front of me, but the ground was too dry to do anything, it just created cracks, nothing I could see clearly.

Why were we here when we'd been going somewhere? I'd asked Three and Four what had happened to the plan, but they'd held out their hands in a sign of not understanding or not knowing. Fine, if they wanted to keep a secret, I wouldn't ask them again. It still didn't explain why things I remembered had such large gaps in them.

Unless... Yes, that made sense.

I'd found a way to explain it, but before I could feel relieved, I thought of something else that pestered me the more I tried to ignore it. Everyone was different, I knew that, but what would it be like if I was someone else, seeing different memories?

I went over to where One was sleeping and poked him lightly in the back, not wanting to hurt him with my sharp fingers. Nothing happened, so I tried again a bit harder. He snapped awake, asking me what was wrong probably before he'd even registered it was me in front of him.

"What's it like to be you?" I asked him.

He rubbed his hands over his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I would like to know what it's like to be you, so I could understand why you woke me up at such an hour over a stupid question. Go to sleep, Six." And with that, he lay back down as he'd been before and pretended I wasn't there.

I got up and wandered over to another area in the house, walking past the twins who were huddled so close in the dark I almost thought only one of them was there. I wasn't tired enough to sleep, and I sat down near a patch of dirt that looked a bit more promising than the others. It was still dry, but if I kept my hands on a light enough pressure I could make some lines and curves. But I wasn't as anxious about drawing then; I didn't need to do it now that I'd figured out what was bothering me.

I continued drawing random shapes for a few minutes before I heard something close by. The steps were too light, it had to be one of my kind. I looked up to see Nine sit beside me, keeping a bit of distance between us.

"Couldn't sleep either?" I asked. I hadn't seen him that night, so I'd assumed he'd been resting like everyone else.

He shook his head, and I returned my gaze to my hands.

"What's it like to be you?" I asked.

A short laugh of disbelief came before "What?"

"Being you. What's it like?"

I heard something move along the ground and assumed Nine had leaned back on his hands. "It's weird," he replied. "I keep thinking I should stop worrying so much, but then I think I'm not doing enough to help. I want to remember all the trouble I've caused so I'll keep going, but then it feels like my actions are being driven by my guilt instead of what's right."

I nodded and hummed, "Mm-hm." Very different from me, then.

"What about you? I've been wondering what you see sometimes."

My drawing was too light, it was hard to see. I started tracing back over it as I said, "I don't understand."

I heard him move again and looked over long enough to see he was sitting up straight, elbows resting on his knees.

"Well, I was talking to Five earlier about a few things, and I remembered the first day I met you. Some of what you say doesn't make sense at first, but they've started coming true. I've been wondering what it's like, being able to know beforehand."

We were right back to boring conversations again. It would be rude to not acknowledge him this time, since we were sitting down and not exhausted, so I answered.

"Of course it's true. All of this happened before and I'm just remembering it."

Nine shifted closer to me and spoke with a voice that was slow and coaxing, like I was a child woken by a bad dream. "No, Six, _this_ is real, what's happening right now."

My fingers scratched deeper into the dirt even though I still wasn't making anything important. "But it makes sense that way. That's why things aren't in order, because memories go however they want."

Nine breathed in quietly and said in that same calm, annoying tone, "Things are happening in order, you're just seeing them differently. Sometimes it seems like you see or hear things that others can't, and there's nothing wrong with that but-"

"No, it makes sense!" I scratched at the ground until my drawing couldn't be seen anymore; it wasn't helping me focus and Nine was being too stubborn. "I have to remember everything how it goes, or else I can't keep going. I can't see it right, if I can't draw it out, then it doesn't match up." I stopped and looked at Nine, who had a scared expression on his face. Why? I was only telling the truth. "What if none of this is real? The drawings and humans were real and now they're not. They're bones and ashes, all of them gone. Gone, gone, gone. Two trusted me, he saw things the same way and now he's not here, we can't reach him. If I don't get things right then none of it makes sense, none of it, none of it, none of it's real."

Everything was out of control, I couldn't stop. Nine called my name, put a hand on my shoulder and I jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me! Everyone, everyone's always trying to snap me out of it, and I've had enough. There's nothing wrong with me!"

We were both quiet, save for me trying to reign in my shaking breath. We were stuck in a stalemate, too afraid to be the first to respond.

Nine was the braver one. He whispered, "All right," and moved as if to leave.

No, no, he couldn't go. He'd come to talk to me, had wanted to help me. No one else had done that in a long time and I'd messed it up.

I grabbed Nine's arm, startling him, but he stayed and waited. My mouth moved soundlessly; I could think of a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn't think of the words. I only said again, "There's nothing wrong with me."

For one horrible second I feared he would ignore me, I took my hand off his arm so it wouldn't hurt as much when he wrestled out of my grip. But he smiled instead. It was small and almost unnoticeable, but I wanted to return it. Then moving slow so he wouldn't scare me and so I would have time to accept it, he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me so close my head was almost on his shoulder.

"I believe you," he said.

A strange feeling went through me. I remembered something like this, but I don't think it had ever happened to me. For the first time in years I felt like I _fit_, like I wasn't being treated like something fragile. As I rested my head on his shoulder, I was no longer worried about getting things right or remembering how I'd gotten here. The only thought that crossed my mind was to say to myself, _I'll just pretend this is real_.

* * *

**((This idea had originally occurred to me before the movie had come out, sometime around August if I remember correctly. Because I was afraid of things being so different from canon I decided I wouldn't write out the ideas, but then I just couldn't hold it in anymore. There's just something about this story that I loved, not only because I wanted to tell a story out of chronological order, but in all honesty I'm still so damn proud of how it's written. Yes, I'm aware of how vain that sounds, but I felt like I'd actually improved with this.**

**So, what did you think? Was it too confusing to get into? Were there sentences or paragraphs that seemed strange to you? Did I make a continuity error, did I make a typo so big you nearly fell out your chair laughing? Any type of constructive criticism is helpful and much appreciated.**

**Oh, and if anyone's wondering what got me being such a 9x6 fanatic... This is where it started.))**


End file.
